MARCH 19TH

Sin is not hurtful because it is forbidden but it is forbidden because it's hurtful. Nor is a Duty beneficial because it is commanded, but it is commanded, because it's beneficial.

— Benjamin Franklin,1739

AMERICANREVOLUTION.ORG

FRANCE IN THE REVOLUTION

CHAPTER XII

PROGRESS OF THE NEGOTIATIONS

Franklin's presence gave to the negotiations
for French support an importance they had not possessed when
Deane, with an ill-defined errand, had been the sole representative
of the States. And though Lord Stormont affected to regard Franklin
as a fugitive seeking safety in a foreign land, he at once recognized
the assistance which the party in France eager for an American
alliance derived from the presence of the famous philosopher.
"If reports are true," writes Stormont of Franklin,
"he has already abused their ignorance . . . concerning
the Americans so far as to proclaim roundly . . . that the affairs
of the rebels are in a flourishing condition, while ours are
desperate. When I hear such talk I make no reply. I leave that
to General Howe, and I am sure that sooner or later it will be
as good a reply as ever has been made." (Doniol, ii, 103.)

The alliance with France and the fate of the
American colonies depended on the reply that Howe should make.
Our ancestors were fond of using Roman names in their letters
to newspapers, and Roman anathemas in their bursts of eloquence.
If they had shared in Roman superstitions, they might have anticipated
with confidence the enormous prosperity in store for the government
they sought to establish. The old Romans found in lucky incidents
at the beginning of any great undertaking the assurance of its
happy accomplishment. No nation in the throes of birth was ever
more favored in the character of its enemies than the American
Republic. The stupidity of kings and ministers, the inefficiency
of generals and admirals, permitted a rebellion to succeed which,
with vigor, energy, and intelligence, could have been suppressed
before the French made up their minds whether it was wise to
assist the rebels.

Stormont left General Howe to make response
to Franklin's prophecies of American success, but the expected
response did not come. The prospect was indeed sufficiently unfavorable
to delay the French in interfering in behalf of the colonists,
but the procrastination and bad judgment of English generals
gave Franklin plenty of time in which to obtain the assistance
of a people already inclined to grant it. When he sailed from
America in October, 1776, the opportunity to capture the American
army on Long Island and win an advantage that would have crippled
the insurgent cause beyond the power of resuscitation had been
neglected by Howe. This crowning mercy was not, however, followed
by any special prosperity for the colonists. While Franklin was
on the sea, Fort Washington was captured with three thousand
troops. The news followed him to France, and this calamity was
succeeded by a long season of misfortune. The army under Washington
was fast disintegrating, and only his wisdom and fortitude kept
together a few thousand ill-fed, ill-clothed, and ill-armed men.
The indignation excited by the brutalities of the Hessians, and
Howe's failure to destroy the remnants of Washington's army,
were all that the colonists could count in their favor, and the
French ministers hesitated to declare in behalf of a rebellion
which seemed to be in its last gasp.

Amid such discouragements, Franklin and his
associates continued their efforts to obtain French aid, receiving
all that the ministers dared grant without coming to an open
breach with England, but failing to make of a secret friend an
open ally. Not only the ill-success of the American armies, but
the unfortunate character of some of the American envoys, added
to the difficulties of the situation.

The American representatives at Paris were,
as has been shown, far from harmonious; their relations were
always unfriendly, and at times became almost a public scandal.
The blame for this did not rest upon Dr. Franklin, who at Paris,
as elsewhere, was one of the most affable and politic of men.
But his associates had been selected with less judgment, and
the character of many of our representatives in Europe during
the Revolutionary War was not all that could be desired. Congress
had sent over envoys and ambassadors accredited to various European
courts, but few of them were received, and at Paris most of them
made their headquarters. The finances of the United States were
in great confusion, and as a result its representatives abroad
were often put in embarrassing positions. Their pay was uncertain,
their duties were ill defined, and most of them were ill fitted
for any duties they had to perform.

Franklin, Deane, and Lee constituted the commission
to France. Of Deane's embarrassments and misfortunes we have
already spoken, but Arthur Lee did most to involve his associates
in constant trouble. He came over to Paris filled with a sense
of his own importance, and ready to regard his fellows with jealousy
and ill-will. He soon decided that Deane was surely dishonest,
Franklin was perhaps dishonest and surely incompetent. Lee was
unquestionably an honest man himself, but he believed that no
one else possessed that virtue. His scheme for the proper arrangement
of American affairs on the Continent he stated to his brother.
Dr. Franklin, he thought, should be sent to Vienna, a respectable,
quiet place, and Deane to Holland. "France remains the centre
of political activity, and here, therefore, I should choose to
be employed."

Even the affability of Franklin could not
soothe Lee's vanity nor allay his irritation. He sent constant
complaints to Congress, and not only abused his associates behind
their backs, but quarrelled with them to their faces. There prevailed
at headquarters, so he wrote, "a spirit of neglect, abuse,
plunder, and intrigue in the public business, which it has been
impossible for me to prevent or correct . . . Things are going
on worse and worse every day among ourselves . . . I see in every
department neglect, dissipation, and private schemes . . . There
is but one way of redressing this and remedying the public evil,"
and that was to send Franklin to Vienna, and leave Lee at Paris
(Wharton, i, 499.)

Lee found a fit associate in Ralph Izard,
who was sent over as envoy to the Grand Duke of Tuscany. Izard
made no attempt to visit the court to which he was accredited,
but remained at Paris, demanding from Franklin large amounts
of money, and pouring out the most virulent abuse when he did
not get it. He received from Franklin two thousand guineas, and
a few months later asked for five hundred more.

Franklin refused to honor the draft, calling
attention to the fact that Izard had not incurred the expense
of going to Tuscany. "You are a gentleman of fortune,"
Franklin added. "You did not come to France with any dependence
on being maintained here with your family at the expense of the
United States in the time of their distress, and without rendering
them the equivalent service they expected." That Izard should
reimburse his country for what it had already spent on his fruitless
mission was Franklin's final suggestion.

If Lee regarded himself as a proper representative
of the United States to France, that belief was not shared by
the ministers of the French government. Nominally Franklin was
one of three commissioners; practically he was treated as the
sole representative, and a position of inferiority was irksome
to Lee's jealous vanity. He resolved to seek other fields for
his activity, a course which was agreeable to his associates
and authorized by his instructions. In the minute prepared in
October, 1776, Congress had said that the commissioners at Paris
would doubtless have opportunities for conversing with the representatives
of other European princes, and had added: "You shall endeavor,
when you find occasion fit and convenient, to obtain from them
a Recognition of our Independency and to conclude Treaties of
Peace, Amity and Commerce between their Princes or States and
us."

The representative of Spain at Paris was the
Conde de Aranda, who exceeded Vergennes in his zeal for immediate
action in behalf of the American colonies. The ardent minister
and the ardent commissioner conferred together, troubled only
by the necessity of having an interpreter. "English,"
wrote Aranda, "is the only language that Lee knows."
(Letter of Jan. 31, 1777; Doniol, ii, 197.) Encouraged by the
zeal of the count, which unfortunately was not shared by the
government he represented, Lee resolved to start for Madrid,
in the sanguine hope of obtaining from that country a treaty
of alliance before Franklin could overcome the cautious resistance
of the French ministry.

The announcement of Lee's purpose created
violent commotion at the Spanish court. He was indeed to preserve
the strictest incognito, to pass for a merchant attending to
his affairs, furnished with a passport which described him as
an Englishman. But this did not reconcile the Spanish to his
visit. "This intelligence," writes the prime minister,
"has been very disagreeable to the King ... It would be
most unfortunate to have Lee at Madrid." He adds: "There
was no necessity for the voyage." He would be discovered,
and the English ministers would complain. "And still we
don't want in any way to disgust or irritate these colonists."
(Letter of Feb. 17, 1777; Doniol, ii, 196.)

To avoid such embarrassment, the Spanish minister
adopted an expedient that was simple and effective. He sent an
emissary to meet Lee at Vittoria, who was to keep him there in
genteel confinement and prevent his penetrating to Madrid. Even
Lee was obliged to yield to so firm a refusal to receive him.
At Vittoria he remained, offering to conquer Pensacola and other
possessions in return for Spanish aid, obtaining some promises
and a little money. "A virgin state," Franklin said
to him, using a metaphor of which he was fond, "should preserve
the virgin character, and wait with decent dignity for the application
of others . . . While we are asking aid it is necessary to .
. . comply with the humors of those we apply to." (Franklin
to Lee, March 21, 1777; Wharton, ii, 298.) There is no doubt
that the virgin state, when counselled by so astute a politician
as Franklin, showed much readiness to meet the peculiarities,
not of those who pursued her, but of those whom she pursued.

After these vain efforts to penetrate the
recesses of Spain, Lee turned to another country, where in some
respects he met with better fortune. No one could be more indifferent
than Frederick II to the fate of the American colonies, but no
fear of English complaints would make him arrest an American
envoy at the Prussian frontier. If he wasted no more affection
on the Americans than on any other foreign people, he had some
vigorous animosities that would be gratified by American success.
Though Frederick was not willing to spend the money or the blood
of his own people, even for so desirable an end, he was not only
willing but very desirous that the French King should do so.
A war that might cripple England, and would perhaps weaken France
besides, was certainly a pleasing prospect. Frederick was constant
in his efforts to incite the French to take up arms for the colonies,
and indirectly he gave valuable aid to the American cause by
his assurances that while France was thus engaged he would not
stir up any continental question that would require her attention.

It would not cost Frederick one groat to allow
an American representative to visit Berlin, and accordingly Lee
made his way undisturbed to the Prussian capital. But there he
met with small success. Lee had already sent a request that American
ships be allowed to enter any Prussian port, but this Frederick
politely evaded, not willing, as he wrote his minister, to irritate
the colonists by an absolute refusal (Doniol, ii, 345.) Arriving
at Berlin, Lee asked that some port be indicated where American
privateers could sell their prizes, and he sought to form a treaty
of commerce with Prussia. These suggestions were unfavorably
received by the Prussian monarch. Until the independence of the
colonists was more firmly established, he states in another letter,
any commerce with them would be perilous and not worth the risk;
and as for a treaty, he was in no humor to embarrass himself
by complications with England in order to favor the Americans
(Doniol, ii, 557.)

A new interest was given to the situation
by an extraordinary incident. Elliot was the English ambassador
at Berlin, and, proceeding with a degree of vigor that modern
diplomacy would not approve, he had some one force his way into
Lee's chamber and steal his papers. This high-handed act enraged
Frederick, though it also answered his purpose, for it furnished
him abundant excuse for showing some attention, even to an unofficial
representative of an unacknowledged state, who had been so indecently
treated by the English ambassador. But the prudent King had no
thought of spending a florin of his own in assisting American
rebels, and no emissary could have been less to his taste than
a vain and injudicious intriguer like Arthur Lee. The British
government made due apologies, Lee soon left Berlin for Paris,
and employed himself in sending home lies about Franklin.

Though the American commissioners were constantly
wrangling among themselves, they united in efforts to obtain
further assistance from the French government. Their first requests
for assistance were moderate, but in March, 1777, they submitted
a more ambitious proposition in which they offered to form an
alliance with France and proceed to the conquest of Canada, Newfoundland,
and the West India islands. Of these spoils Canada and Newfoundland
should be the share of the colonists, and the British West Indies
should become the property of France.

While the French ministers were not specially
allured by this project, they were rapidly reaching the point
where they were ready to exchange the pretence of neutrality
for the reality of an alliance. In April, 1777, Vergennes declared
that, having done so much for the colonists, they must now do
more. "We cannot expect," be wrote, "that what
we have thus far done for the United Colonies is enough to secure
their gratitude, and if they unite their forces with those the
English already have in the New World, we should have small means
with which to resist." (Letter, April 7, 1777 ; Doniol,
ii, 341.)

While the French minister constantly asserted
that his government was giving no heed to the demands of American
representatives, the English ambassador was not deceived. In
March be writes: "That M. de Vergennes is hostile to us
in his heart, and anxious for the success of the Rebels, I have
not a shadow of doubt," and he adds: "The provocation
they give us is great, and there is nothing that would please
me so much as to unmask their artiflce and confound their duplicity
and fraud; but that must not be attempted until the day of retribution
comes." (Stormont to Weymouth, March 26, 1777; Hale, Franklin
in France, ii, 430.)

It was because Vergennes had so bad a conscience,
and knew full well that the assistance he was secretly giving
the Americans would justify the English government in declaring
war on France, if a favorable opportunity should offer, that
he was in constant fear of such action, and was the more inclined
to begin a contest that he believed was inevitable. But still
he did not wish to act without the cooperation of Spain, and
his arguments were insufficient to induce that timid and uncertain
power to undertake war in behalf of American independence.

The Spanish minister went so far as to promise
aid to the Americans, but his assurance was marked by commendable
thrift. He wished to give "a little so as to nourish their
hopes." Even this promise was not kept, for some Spanish
ships were captured by American captains, who, unfortunately,
were not well read in Pufendorf and Grotius. By such an act Spanish
dignity was offended, and it at once assumed its sternest aspect.
Some French ships also were captured, but Vergennes accepted
the situation philosophically, and sought to avert such evils
in the future. This was not the policy of the Pardo; the ministers
stormed and the King stopped the promised payments; luckily for
the Americans, the promised payments were small. The American
commissioners expressed their regrets and reproached the injudicious
corsairs, but this did not smooth the ruffled feathers of Spanish
diplomacy.

Undisturbed by such incidents, the French
would probably have formed an alliance with the colonists during
the summer following Franklin's arrival, had it not been for
the ill-success of the American arms. During the weary months
of 1777, when the commissioners at Paris fluctuated between the
joyful belief that France would at once take up arms in behalf
of the colonists, and the disappointment caused by constant delay,
the reports from America for the most part brought tidings of
disaster, and it seemed that the colonists would be forced to
succumb before their possible allies could decide upon assuring
their salvation. In July Ticonderoga was captured, and this success
was regarded as of far more importance than it really was. George
III declared that the Americans were now surely beaten, and Vergennes
was afraid that such was the case. "It is a problem,"
he wrote, after the news of the abandonment of Ticonderoga reached
France, "whether they can preserve the liberty for which
they have taken up arms; attacked in the rear by the English
army of Canada, while General Howe assails them in front. Have
they the force, the unity, the leadership, to resist this storm
? " (Sept. 19,1777; Doniol, ii, 572.)

Another note states some of the embarrassments
which hindered any decisive action: the divisions among leading
men, it declared, the intrigues of the Tories, the inaction of
the Quakers, or some untoward event might overthrow the edifice
so hastily erected, and the powers that espoused the American
cause would find themselves exposed to danger without being of
any assistance to their allies (Doniol, ii, 628.)

But if these disasters chilled Vergennes's
ardor, his delay aroused a storm of criticism that was valuable
to the colonists. French public sentiment had long favored interference;
the philosophers and litterateurs lauded the principles professed
by the American patriots; ladies and gentlemen of fashion sang
the praises of Franklin and Washington and their associates;
young men of gallantry and ambition, like La Fayette, were embarking
in the American cause. The disasters of the year were now charged
by the French people to the remissness of the French government;
they had delayed too long, they had let the critical and auspicious
moment go by. The enemies of Vergennes filled the King's ears
with complaints of the inert and unwise conduct of the minister.
Even Frederick II declared that France had allowed the opportune
moment for her interference to pass.

Vergennes was disturbed by these criticisms,
and in November, 1777, he sent a M. Holker to visit the United
States and ascertain the disposition of Congress, the resources
of the people, what they were ready to do for a nation that would
embark in their cause, and the actual condition of the English
army (Doniol, ii, 615.)

Holker's mission was not important, for the
die was cast long before he could make his investigations and
send his report. On October 31, 1777, at ten o'clock on a fine
morning, the brigantine Perch sailed from the Long Wharf in Boston,
carrying Jonathan Loring Austin of that city, with messages from
the Massachusetts Council announcing the surrender of Burgoyne
and the capture of his army of six thousand men. Saratoga is
justly reckoned by Creasy among the fifteen decisive battles
of the world. If Burgoyne's expedition had been successful, it
is doubtful if France would have interfered in the American cause,
and still more doubtful if the colonists, without such assistance,
could have achieved their independence.

The Perch was favored by remarkably fine weather,
and in thirty days reached the French coast. On November 30,
writes Austin, he first announced the news in France, and it
was received with manifest joy by French as well as Americans.
Leaving Nantes in a chaise drawn by three horses abreast, be
made his way to Versailles, and from there to Passy. As he drove
into the courtyard of the Hotel de Valentinois, he was met by
Franklin.

"Sir, is Philadelphia taken? " asked
the doctor.

It is," replied the messenger; "but,
sir, I have greater news than that. General Burgoyne and his
whole army are prisoners." (Hale, Franklin in France,
i, 159.)

Beaumarchais was then visiting the commissioners
at Passy. He started to carry the news to Paris in such hot haste
that his carriage tipped over and he nearly broke his neck. Such
casualties seemed unimportant to so eager and impetuous a friend
of the American cause. "My right arm is cut," he writes,
"the bones of my neck were nearly crushed . . . but the
charming news from America is a balm to my wounds." (Beaumarchais
to Vergennes, Dec. 5, 1777; Doniol, ii, 682.) It is sad that
the American Congress, in settling Beaumarchais's accounts, showed
so little of the alacrity with which he carried to the French
court the good news of American success.

Upon receiving the intelligence of Burgoyne's
surrender, the French government decided to espouse the cause
of the American insurgents. They had long hesitated, and during
the disasters of the summer, critics had declared that the ministers
had hesitated too long: the golden moment had passed and the
Americans, aided by no helping hand, had been overpowered by
the British. It was then thought that France had delayed until
the ruin of the colonies had been consummated: it was now feared
that she had waited until the victory of the colonists would
force England to grant acceptable terms, and the opportunity
to gain the friendship of the new republic would be lost.

Vergennes had always been haunted by a vision
of some sort of reconciliation between England and her colonies,
and of their united arms turned to despoil France of her American
possessions. He had feared this when it seemed that the cause
of the colonists was hopeless; he now feared it when he thought
the victory of the colonists was assured. The English, he said,
were irritated because France had given so much aid to the colonists;
the colonists were irritated because she had given so little.

"If the English learned wisdom from their
misfortunes," wrote Vergennes as soon as he beard of Burgoyne's
surrender . . . "and made terms of peace, what could France
do to prevent a reconciliation?" And he continued with inaccurate
prophecy: "The power which first recognizes American independence
will gather all the fruits of this war." (Doniol, ii, 632.)
"France must anticipate such action on England's part,"
he wrote again, "by greater speed in making the colonists
our friends . . . My reflections are not agreeable," he
said, "as I see the fatal period approach which I have always
regarded as the most critical." (Doniol, ii, 622, 623.)
In his uncertainty he did not derive the amusement which otherwise
would have been furnished him when Lord Stormont had to announce
the tidings from Saratoga. "He should have blushed,"
wrote Vergennes, "if he had recalled the audacious statements
he had lately made about those cowardly insurgents . . . but
the present crisis demands something more than pleasantries."
(Doniol, ii, 704.)

The American commissioners at once renewed
their demands, with the confident expectation that a favorable
answer would not be long deferred. It was a year, wrote Franklin
to his associates, since they had proposed to France a treaty
of commerce and alliance. Their overtures had remained without
definite reply, but now a favorable response would establish
the credit of the United States and discourage their enemies.
Thanking the King for his gracious gift of three million livres,
they pressed for a further answer, desiring, next to the liberty
of their own land, a firm and everlasting union between the two
nations (Letter of Dec. 8,1777; Wharton, ii, 445.)

To these suggestions a reply was soon made.
The long months of delay and uncertainty were at last a thing
of the past. Vergennes at once prepared a paper in which he outlined
the policy required by the new condition of affairs. At heart
he had long been ready for an alliance with the United States
and its necessary result, a war with England, but the ill-success
of the colonists and the unwillingness of Spain to cooperate
had prevented any final decision. Now he felt that the time for
action had surely come, and there must be no more delay. He therefore
prepared for the King's approval a paper in which be advised
that a treaty of alliance be forthwith made with the United States.

His arguments were submitted to Maurepas,
the chief minister, and by him they were presented for the consideration
of the King. Maurepas fell ill of the gout, Louis visited him
for further consultation, and the whole matter was gone over
again. Vergennes's decision was made, at last the entire Council
agreed, and the resolution to form an alliance with the United
States was unanimous.

At an earlier period Louis XVI had regarded
interference as unwise; he had believed with Turgot that French
finance would not stand the strain of war; he felt that good
faith to England and a just regard for the cause of kings forbade
his espousing the cause of rebellious subjects. But now, if we
may credit the statements of his ministers, the King was convinced
of the wisdom of action, and ready to meet the risk of war. Louis
XVI's judgment was indeed largely formed by the opinion of those
around him; he had not an intelligence sufficiently active to
form his own conclusions and control the action of his ministers
by his own will. With different advisers he could probably have
been persuaded that it was the part of wisdom for France to leave
England and her colonies to fight out their own battles. On the
other hand, so strong was the pressure of public opinion, so
universal was the enthusiasm for the American cause, that any
other ministers would probably have reached the same conclusion
as Vergennes and his associates.

It was certainly a critical moment, and the
deliberations between the King and his ministers were of an importance
that it is hard to overestimate. The history of the war makes
it seem at least probable that the colonists, left to themselves,
would have failed in their effort to throw off British rule.
Notwithstanding the judgment and patriotism of Washington and
the fortitude of the men who bore patiently the sufferings of
Valley Forge, exhaustion, the lack of arms, the lack of money,
might at last have reduced the colonists to submission. After
three years more of war, with the benefit of French assistance,
the result still seemed doubtful, until the capture of Yorktown
secured a successful termination. Without French aid, the capture
of Yorktown and of Cornwallis's army would have been impossible.
The United States might have won their liberty after a longer
struggle; they might have failed, and at some later period have
become an independent state; they might have obtained practical
independence and still remained a portion of a greater England.

Nor were the results of the alliance of much
less importance to France. They modified her political development,
and had a large influence on the events that were soon to change
the form of French government, to lead to the reign of the greatest
conqueror of modern times, and at last to leave France a republic
instead of a monarchy. These issues were considered by men who
were sagacious but not great, and who did not realize the importance
of the questions they had to decide. But the same thing can be
said of most statesmen in great crises. The gift of prescience
is given to few, and the most far-sighted can penetrate but little
into the infinite complexity of future events.

If the motives which actuated the French ministers
in their decision were not wholly philanthropic, they were neither
petty nor sordid. The advantages for herself which France could
hope for, and the only ones for which she asked when peace was
made, were not, as Vergennes justly said, of sufficient importance
to justify an appeal to arms: release from the ignominious conditions
at Dunkirk imposed by the Treaty of Utrecht, some increase in
fishery rights on the coast of Newfoundland, and the recovery
of some petty islands in the West Indies. These were of small
importance. To separate the United States from England and weaken
the insolent enemy of the House of Bourbon was the object and
the justification of the war (Doniol, ii, 781-788.)

In all these long diplomatic papers we find
no discussion of wrongs suffered by the American colonists, of
rights to be protected, or liberties to be assured. Vergennes
thought that France should interfere in behalf of the colonies
because thereby she could humble a rival and avenge past defeats.
But though he was not moved by altruistic motives, the assistance
was none the less valuable. Moreover, the spirit which led La
Fayette to risk his life in aid of a people struggling to be
free, represented the feelings of the French people better than
the arguments of a minister who saw in this war only an opportunity
for selfish advantage. Among the French people, the desire to
assist the colonists in their struggle for independence was as
unselfish as it was universal. The Americans loomed up before
enthusiastic French eyes as heroes possessing the virtues of
antiquity, and struggling for the freedom which had been dear
to patriots of old. The subjects of an absolute monarchy sang
the praises of liberty, and were enthusiastic for the success
of its cause across the ocean. The popular feeling was strong
and generous, based upon no selfish considerations of state,
but upon genuine sympathy for fellow men.

Such sentiments were less potent among the
statesmen in whose hands rested the final decision. It was their
duty to consider the interests of their own land, and not to
enter into war without proper regard for the welfare of the people
whose servants they were. And yet, though the reasons for helping
the Americans were discussed in grave official papers, with as
little pretence of philanthropy as if it had been a question
of the balance of power in Europe, it was the popular enthusiasm
for American liberty which penetrated the council chamber and
influenced the ministers in their decision, even if they failed
to recognize such a motive.

As is often the case, the generous intuitions
of the people were truer guides than the selfish counsels of
statesmen. The advantages, so carefully considered by Vergennes
and his associates, were realized in small degree. For some years
a strong feeling of gratitude and kindliness toward France was
cherished by our ancestors. This was agreeable to the French,
but it was of small practical value. France did not obtain the
chief share of American trade; that went to England, which had
more to sell us, and was ready to buy more from us. The decline
of English power, which Vergennes so confidently anticipated,
he was not destined to behold. English merchants made more money
out of the people of the United States than they had ever made
from the American colonists; the power of England was greater
under Pitt, when the people of the United States were independent,
than it had been under North, when they were grumbling and discontented
subjects. Nor is there any reason to believe that if peace had
been made between England and the colonists before France interfered,
they would have joined arms in order to strip the French of their
possessions in the West Indies. Thus the arguments on which statesmen
based their action were not justified in the future. But the
instincts of the French nation were right: they assisted a people
to gain their freedom, they took part in one of the great crises
of modern progress, they helped the world in its onward march.
For nations, as for individuals, that is the greatest work. The
reward is not to be found in more vessels sailing, laden with
wares, nor in more dollars gained and deposited in banks, but
in the consciousness of the unselfish performance of good work,
of assistance rendered to the cause of freedom, and to the improvement
of man's lot on earth.

On the 17th of December, 1777, Gerard went
to the house of Franklin and his associates at Passy, and imparted
to them the momentous intelligence that Louis XVI had decided
to recognize the independence of the United States, and to make
with them a treaty of commerce and friendship. A ship was to
sail forthwith that would carry the news to America, and the
commissioners had the pleasure of reporting to Congress the resolution
of the French King. The news of the surrender of Burgoyne, they
wrote, had been received by the French with as universal joy
as if it had been a victory won by their own troops over their
own enemies. This joy had soon ripened into action. Gerard yesterday,
they said, informed them that the King was ready to acknowledge
our independence and make a treaty. "In this treaty no advantage
would be taken of our present situation to obtain terms from
us, which otherwise would not be convenient for us to agree to,
his Majesty desiring that the treaty once made should be durable
and our amity subsist forever." (Letter of Dec. 18, 1777;
Wharton, ii, 452.)

As the representatives of France were ready
to agree to the terms which the American commissioners proposed,
there was little delay in the negotiations. On February 6, 1778,
treaties of alliance between the King of France and the United
States were signed by the French ministers in behalf of Louis
XVI, and by Franklin, Deane, and Arthur Lee for this country.
The commissioners reported that in the negotiations the promise
to make no effort to take advantage of present difficulties in
order to obtain disadvantageous conditions was fulfilled. The
states were in great need and France could have driven a hard
bargain in return for her aid, but the treaty was drawn as if
the two powers had been of equal strength and equally in need
of the alliance. Such had been the King's goodness, reported
the commissioners, that nothing had been proposed which they
could not well have accepted in a condition of complete prosperity
and recognized power. Equality and perfect reciprocity had alone
been desired, commercial privileges had been mutual, and nothing
had been granted that could not be accorded to any other nation.
Having reason to be satisfied with the good-will of the court
and of the French nation, they hoped that Congress would adopt
every means that could render the alliance lasting (Letter of
Feb. 8, 1778; Wharton, ii, 490.)

Vergennes, in reporting the treaty to the
French ambassador at London, took the same view of it as the
American envoys. "We have not wished to procure," he
said, "commercial advantages which could make any other
nation jealous, and which the Americans would regret in the future
that they had granted us." (Vergennes to Noailles, March
10, 1778; Doniol, ii, 822.)

Two treaties were executed: one of commerce,
and the other providing for mutual defence and alliance. The
terms of the treaty of commerce conformed largely to the proposals
which Congress had intrusted to the commissioners. Each party
was placed on the footing of the most favored nation. The French
King promised his good offices with the Emperor of Morocco and
the rulers of Algiers and Tunis, that those much dreaded pirates
might leave the ships and citizens of the United States in peace.
Our own privateers and their prizes were granted free access
to French ports, but they obtained few advantages by treaty which
they had not already been allowed by favor. How remote were the
two sides of the Atlantic was shown by the provision in reference
to the carriage of goods belonging to citizens of a power with
which either of the contracting parties might in the future be
at war. Two months were granted to ascertain the fact that such
a war had begun. At the expiration of that period it was to be
presumed that the news would have crossed the Atlantic, and penetrated
into the ports of seafaring men.

Of greater importance was the second treaty,
by which France agreed to come to the aid of the thirteen states.
The only condition that France imposed upon her American allies
was that they should make no peace until their independence was
recognized, and that the allies should unite in any treaty. This
surely was not a grievous condition. France guaranteed to the
United States her independence, and in turn our country guaranteed
to France her possessions in the West Indies. It must be confessed
that at that period the French guarantee would have been regarded
as of higher value. By secret agreement it was provided that
Spain might join in the alliance, but of this privilege she never
availed herself.

The American commissioners at once reported
to Congress the great intelligence, with a pardonable pride in
the result of their negotiations. It was with good cause that
they congratulated their fellow citizens on an event destined
to thwart the desires of their enemies and fortify the hopes
of their friends. To this they added fervent expressions of gratitude
to France, and of admiration of the upright and disinterested
conduct of Louis XVI (Wharton, ii, 490.)

Vergennes endeavored, but in vain, to have
Spain join France in an alliance with the American colonies.
When it had been finally resolved that a treaty should be made
with the United States, the Spanish King was at once notified
of the decision reached by his nephew in France. The critical
moment had at last arrived, he was told, and the French King
could no longer remain inactive. "Providence has marked
this epoch," it was said, "for the humiliation of a
power, greedy and unjust, which has never known any other law
than its own interest"; and the letter proceeded with a
statement of the somewhat dubious political morality which then
prevailed in every European monarchy. "Kings, when the welfare
of their people is concerned, are not perhaps subjected to the
rules of as rigid a morality as binds private persons in their
actions."

Yet without any necessity of appealing to
such a principle, there were many reasons which made an immediate
war with England entirely just. Such a contest was certain sooner
or later; the question was whether it was better to meet it with
America as a friend, or with America again united to England.
"Shall we sleep in false security, and lose the one chance
which may offer itself for centuries to reduce England to her
true position? . . . Never was such an opportunity furnished
the House of Bourbon" to lower the pride of her enemy, and
to form with the United States an alliance of which the benefits
should be incalculable (Doniol, ii, 627, 664.)

But Spain could not be moved to sudden action
by any arguments. The French ambassador visited the Spanish minister
and debated the matter with him for five hours, but neither hours
of argument nor reams of correspondence could induce the Spanish
government to reach a decision. There was no haste, said Florida
Blanca, and he submitted a letter containing not less than sixteen
elaborate questions, to which answers must be given before any
decision could be made. Vergennes sent the answers, but he did
not wait for the close of a debate which would surely occupy
many months. It was most painful to the King, he wrote the French
ambassador at Madrid, to make this decision alone, but the interests
of the two monarchies would not permit his Majesty to remain
in a state of inactivity which might be fatal to both (Jan. 8,1778;
Doniol, ii, 730.)

Though with much reluctance, Louis XVI signed
the treaty of alliance with the United States without waiting
for his Spanish kinsman. The Spanish were neither ready for action
nor pleased that the French should act without them. While unwilling
to reach a conclusion himself, the Catholic King manifested considerable
annoyance because his Most Christian nephew had decided to help
the Americans without waiting for the cooperation of Spain. As
they disapproved of any treaty, naturally they were ready to
criticize the terms of the one made, and declared them absurdly
liberal. The Spanish minister compared the American commissioners
to the Roman consuls whose aid eastern kings had begged, and
said that the treaty, on the part of France, was quixotic in
its liberality (Doniol, iii, 23.)

Now that the French King had formally recognized
the new republic and had entered into treaty with it, the position
of the American commissioners was altered. They had been kept
in obscurity, had negotiated in stealth, and been received by
under-secretaries or at private interviews. This was now changed.
On March 16 Stormont left Paris for London, and on the 20th the
American commissioners were formally presented to Louis XVI by
Vergennes. They were not, indeed, received with all the ceremonial
of accredited ambassadors, but their interview was as agreeable
as if every detail of diplomatic etiquette had been complied
with, and the presentation excited a degree of attention which
was rarely given when the representatives of powerful governments
and ancient monarchies were received at Versailles.

It was indeed a notable event in Franklin's
extraordinary career. His government had been acknowledged by
a great European power, and a treaty made that insured the liberties
of his nation, and this was, in large degree, the fruit of his
own labors. His admirers recognized how great was the triumph.
As he proceeded to the interview he was greeted by applause,
not only in the streets of the city, but in the sacred precincts
of the palace. The King was less enthusiastic, but he was civil,
and all went well. The impressions produced upon Franklin himself,
as he has recorded them, are characteristic of the man. He was
little affected by the splendors of Versailles, but the fact
that the palace was ill kept, that sweeping and other sanitary
provisions were neglected, impressed his practical and somewhat
prosaic mind (Sparks, Diplomatic Correspondence, i, 374.)

After the reception was over the commissioners
called to pay their respects to Madame de La Fayette, who was
then at Versailles, and assured her of their gratitude for her
husband's efforts; and they then dined with the Secretary of
Foreign Affairs.

These formalities had been preceded by another
ceremonial still more interesting. Paul Jones was then commanding
the Ranger, from the mast of which floated the flag of the new
republic. The hardy corsair, who now found himself the officer
of a recognized government, wrote to Deane telling him of the
first salutes exchanged between the flag of liberty and that
of the ancient monarchy of France. On arriving at Nantes, Jones
inquired if the French admiral would return his salute, and was
informed that, as a senior officer of the American navy now in
Europe, he would be given the salute authorized for an admiral
of Holland. A little after sunset on March 14, the Ranger discharged
thirteen guns in honor of the French admiral, and in reply nine
guns saluted the flag of the United States. Jones would have
preferred equal honors, but the difference between an ancient
monarchy and a new republic had to be recognized. French officers
visited the Ranger and delighted Jones's heart by declaring her
a "perfect gem" (Translation of intercepted letter;
Doniol, iii, 3.)

In April the news of the French alliance reached
America and was welcomed with an enthusiasm befitting its importance.
In Congress a resolution was passed expressing its high "sense
of the magnanimity and wisdom of his most Christian majesty,"
and presenting "grateful acknowledgments" for the "generous
and disinterested treaties." It sincerely wished that the
friendship so happily commenced might be perpetual.

The treaty excited no less enthusiasm in the
army, and no one appreciated its importance better than the commanding
general. No one recognized more clearly than he the defects in
our military and financial system and the importance of an alliance
with a great military power. In an order issued by Washington
at Valley Forge on May 6, he declared that it had pleased the
Almighty Ruler of the universe to raise up for us in our need
a powerful friend among the princes of the earth. In recognition
of this the brigades were to meet at nine the next morning, when
the chaplains would communicate the intelligence, offer up thanksgiving,
and pronounce discourses suitable to the occasion. The men were
then to be inspected, amid discharges of cannon, and at a given
signal the whole army should huzza "Long live the King of
France," and this should be followed by a huzza for the
American states.

Our ancestors celebrated the alliance in a
manner befitting good Puritans by listening to lengthy sermons,
but they indulged also in other festivities. The sermon was followed
by a great dinner, a somewhat rare occurrence at headquarters,
where supplies were often scanty. It was attended by the officers
and their wives and many distinguished personages. Washington,
Greene, and many other generals were present; conspicuous among
them all was the youthful La Fayette, who had done so much to
excite among the French people an interest in the American cause.
Mrs. Washington, Lady Sterling, and other ladies were among the
guests.

Similar celebrations occurred in many places.
Ministers preached and cannon roared in honor of the great event.
Yet, while the intelligence of the alliance was hailed by all
earnest patriots as the guarantee of ultimate success, the old
distrust of France appeared in the outcry with which some greeted
the treaty. Dancing-masters, said the critics, would now instruct
the Puritans in manners, and priests would save their souls;
Americans had left a loving though severe mother for a treacherous
step-mother, and the French alliance would bring to the American
cause inevitable ruin. Such were the predictions made by the
Tories, but they were not to be verified in the future (C. H.
Van Tyne, The Loyalists in the American Revolution, 152-156.)